Keith Bickerstaffe Poet Verse

A Weathered Glass

A weathered glass in harbor deep 
reflects your eyes long gone from me 
and seals your watery grave. 
Sea shells sing you now to sleep, 
the weeds confess your memory 
within the bird-thronged cove. 

On wind-soughed days your voice I hear, 
its roughened cadence like a moan 
which mocks me with its edge 
of unresolved lament and fear; 
a shriek, a wail and then its gone 
to bottom in the sludge. 

My soul bemoans your tragedy, 
a life extinguished by your hand, 
condemned to Neptune's lair; 
consigned to quiver restlessly, 
ne'er again we'll tread the strand, 
a misbegotten pair.

               ********

...a tribute to the poetry of Dylan Thomas.

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Ilene Bauer May 19, 2015 at 5:46 PM oh, so sad but so so beautiful, keith! i especially love the second verse and can hear that moan so clearly...

Emile Pinet May 19, 2015 at 2:01 PM The conscious mind extends itself beyond our expected norms and we enter a world composed of reality defused with imagination and love where happiness is tentative and so precious as to awe us with its beauty and scare us with its fragility. Emile. #7

Sara Kendrick May 19, 2015 at 1:41 PM I like the depth of your work..It seems to speak of one lived who died at sea or the person's ashes maybe sprinkled on the ocean.. awesome work..Thanks for stopping by..Sara